Chapter 2 – Fallen and Found

Chamomile & Demons

Kate’s POV

The days following Dan’s miraculous healing were a blur of nervous glances and stealthy hand inspections. Every time I passed him on the dig site, I couldn’t help but sneak a peek at his hand, half expecting the gash to reappear. But it remained a faint scar, a testament to the impossible.

I threw myself into my work, hoping to distract myself from the growing unease gnawing at me. The dig site was a constant flurry of activity, the sounds of shovels and brushes against dirt a comforting background noise. The evenings brought a different kind of distraction. Gathered around the crackling campfire, the team would share stories and laughter, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows on their faces. I found myself observing the others more closely, looking for any signs they might have noticed something unusual. But everyone seemed focused on the dig, their excitement and curiosity undimmed.

Elena, with her wild mane illuminated by the firelight, would regale us with tales of her misadventures in far-flung corners of the world, her voice a melodic blend of Irish lilt and Romanian inflection. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and for a few hours each night, I managed to push my worries aside. Dr. Petrescu, ever the taskmaster, kept us all on our toes. His keen eye for detail and his passion for the work were inspiring, and I often found myself working late into the night, driven by the desire to uncover more of the site’s secrets.

But as the laughter died down and the embers glowed softly, a sense of unease would creep back in. I would catch myself staring at my hands, flexing my fingers as if testing their newfound power. They looked ordinary, unremarkable, yet I could feel they held a secret, a potential that both terrified and intrigued me.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the forest grew darker, I decided to take a walk to clear my head. The path through the woods was familiar, lined with tall pines that swayed gently in the evening breeze. The air was cooler now, carrying the faint smell of damp earth and decaying leaves. Shadows lengthened, and the forest became a maze of dark shapes and eerie sounds. Despite the calming rhythm of my steps, my thoughts were still tangled with the events of the past days.

I walked deeper and deeper into the forest, my mind a whirlwind of questions and doubts. It did not take long before I could neither see nor hear the camp behind me anymore. I tried to piece together the puzzle of what had happened with Dan. The warmth I had felt, the way the wound had healed so quickly—it defied all logic. What was happening to me? Was I finally going crazy, my brain fried from too many years in the sun? Or was there some truth to the ancient myths and legends that had always fascinated me?

As I ventured deeper into the woods, the path grew narrower, the trees closing in around me like silent sentinels. The sun set and moonlight began to filter through the branches, casting dappled shadows that danced and shifted with every gust of wind. The air grew colder, the silence broken only by the crunch of leaves under my boots and the distant hoot of an owl. Lost in thought, I almost missed the sudden shift in the atmosphere. The usual forest sounds had fallen eerily silent, replaced by an oppressive stillness. My heart began to race, and I decided to turn around to return to the camp. I quickened my pace, glancing nervously over my shoulder. The path back to camp seemed longer than usual, the trees closing in around me.

The twilight deepened, casting long, ominous shadows across the forest floor. My footsteps seemed unnaturally loud on the leaf-strewn path, and every rustle of the wind through the branches made me flinch. I tried to shake off the feeling of being watched, but it clung to me like a second skin. Suddenly, a low growl echoed through the trees, sending a shiver down my spine. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. My eyes darted around, searching the darkness for the source of the sound. There, among the trees, two glowing red eyes stared back at me. My breath caught in my throat as a hulking shadow emerged from the darkness. The creature was massive, with claws and fangs that gleamed menacingly in the dim light.

Panic surged through me, and I stumbled backward, tripping over a root and falling hard to the ground. The creature moved forward, its growl deepening. My mind screamed at me to get up, to run, but my body refused to obey. I raised my arms in a futile attempt to shield myself, my heart pounding so loudly I could hardly hear anything else. Just as the creature lunged, a blur of movement intercepted it. A tall figure, clad in dark clothing, wielding a sword that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly light, stepped between me and the monster.

The stranger moved with incredible speed and precision, his sword flashing as he fought the creature with a skill and ferocity that left me breathless. The forest floor became a chaotic dance of shadows and light, the air filled with the sounds of snarls, growls, and the clash of metal against flesh. Dark, nearly black blood splashed on my face as the stranger slashed the monster with his sword. He raised his sword high and with one last, powerful throw rammed it down on the beast’s back. The monster let out a bone-chilling scream before it collapsed, its breath gargling from the blood filling its chest as it died.

A sickening “schlorp” filled the air as the stranger yanked his blade from the demon’s flesh, the sound echoing through the silent forest like a grotesque kiss. The sword had left a gaping wound that gurgled and hissed with otherworldly fluids. He turned to me, his piercing blue eyes meeting mine. He was tall and muscular, with dark brown hair and an aura of quiet strength. I brought my hand up to my face, to wipe the blood splatter off my cheek, my hand shaking as I stared at the dark liquid on my fingers.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice calm and steady.

I shook my head, still too stunned to speak. He extended a hand to help me up, and I took it, his grip surprisingly gentle and warm despite his imposing figure.

“My name is Cyrus,” he said, his gaze intense. “You’re not safe here. There are more of those things, and they’re hunting you.”

“Hunting me?” I finally found my voice, though it trembled. “Why?”

Cyrus studied me for a moment, then nodded as if confirming something to himself. “Because of what you are. You have powers, powers that they want. And they won’t stop until they have you.”

“Powers?” I scoffed, trying to mask my fear with disbelief. “What are you talking about? I’m just an archaeologist.”

“No,” he said quietly, “you’re much more than that.”

I stared at him, my mind racing. Was this some kind of elaborate prank? A mix of fear and disbelief surged through me. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, my voice firmer now. “And I don’t even know you. Why should I trust you?”

Cyrus’s lips twitched into a wry smile. “Because if you don’t come with me, you’ll be demon chow before you can say ‘carbon dating.’”

His words, though delivered with a hint of dark humor, sent a chill down my spine. He sighed and began to clean the monster’s blood off his sword with a rag, looking at me matter-of-factly. “Your powers are like a beacon to them. They can sense you, and they will find you. You’re not safe here, and neither are the people around you.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. My mind raced, trying to process everything he was saying. I glanced back toward the camp, the thought of my friends and colleagues suddenly filling me with dread.

“They’ll be safe as long as you’re not there,” Cyrus added, sensing my concern. “The demons can sense your powers and are drawn to you. They usually have no interest in regular humans. But if you return, you’ll lead the demons straight to them and they might become collateral damage in the attack.”

If what he said was true, then staying here would put them all in danger. Cyrus must have sensed my hesitation. “Look,” he said, softening his tone, “I know this is a lot to take in. But you have to trust me. I can help you learn to control your powers and to hide your presence from them. But we need to go. Now.”

I looked around the darkening forest, the shadows seeming to close in on me. Earlier that day, I had mentioned to Dan and Elena that I might head to the nearby village to pick up some supplies and wouldn’t be back until late. They likely thought I had decided to spend the night there rather than risk the walk back in the dark. The rational part of my brain screamed that this was insane, but another part, a deeper, more primal instinct, urged me to trust this stranger. If he was telling the truth, I couldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to the others at the camp.

I took a deep breath, the weight of the decision pressing down on me. Finally, I nodded. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”

“Great. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to burn this thing before it starts attracting more unwanted attention,” Cyrus said, pointing to the pile of demon remains with the tip of his sword. I tried not to gag at the smell and appearance of the throbbing pile of meat that once had been a beast.

Cyrus pulled out a flask and began to pour the liquid inside it over the body. I could tell from the smell that it was gasoline and glanced around nervously, worried that the dry leaves and needles on the forest ground around us might catch fire. He pulled out a pouch, containing some kind of white powder that he spread in a circle around the corpse.

“Don’t worry,” he said, glancing at me from the corner of his eye, “I don’t plan to start a forest fire.” He pulled out a matchbox and lit one of the matches, staring at it intently for a second before tossing it on the beast’s body with a grim yet satisfied look.

The corpse ignited with a sudden “WHOOSH” that made me jump backward, causing a smirk on Cyrus’s face. I heaved as the smell of burning flesh reached my nose, clinging onto a nearby tree while struggling to somehow contain my dinner. Once my stomach had finally settled, I looked at the makeshift pyre, noticing in amazement that the white powder had kept the fire from spreading.

“Well, that’s one way to reduce your carbon footprint,” I muttered, trying to ignore the acrid smell of burning flesh.

Cyrus chuckled, a low rumble that did absolutely nothing to calm my nerves. “Come on,” he said, gesturing for me to follow him. “We’ve got a long way to go before sunrise.”

As we left the forest behind, the campfire’s glow distant and unreachable, my thoughts were a chaotic jumble. What had I just gotten myself into?

Cyrus led me through the dense forest, his movements swift and purposeful. As we moved deeper, the leafy trees gradually gave way to towering pines, their needles carpeting the forest floor and muffling our steps. I followed closely, my heart still pounding from the encounter. The forest seemed even darker now, the tall pines casting long shadows that danced eerily in the moonlight. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional rustle of branches and the soft thud of our footsteps on the forest floor.

After what felt like hours, we arrived at a secluded cabin nestled deep in the woods. It was rustic but sturdy, with smoke curling from the chimney and the soft glow of lanterns illuminating the windows. Cyrus pushed open the door and gestured for me to enter.

“Ladies first,” he said with a flourish, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

I stepped inside, the warmth of the cabin washing over me like a comforting embrace. The interior was a cozy haven, with rough-hewn wooden beams, a crackling fire in the hearth, and the comforting aroma of pine and woodsmoke. It was a stark contrast to the dark, menacing forest outside, and I couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

“Not exactly the Ritz-Carlton, but it’ll do,” I quipped, trying to mask my nervousness with a bit of humor.

Cyrus smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s got all the essentials: a roof, a bed, and enough ancient artifacts and mystical trinkets in this place to ward off a small army of demons.” He winked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Or at least keep them entertained while we make a run for it.”

I felt a chill, remembering the dangers lurking just beyond the cabin’s walls. “Can we maybe, like, wash the demon guts off my face first… and then discuss the whole ‘small army of demons’ thing? Where’s the bathroom?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the slight tremor I felt.

“Well, the outhouse is out back,” he said, his smirk widening. “It’s got all the rustic charm you could ask for: spiders, a questionable smell, and a view of the woods that’s sure to inspire… contemplation.”

“Hilarious,” I retorted dryly. “Just point me to the water, please.”

He gestured towards a large ceramic basin in the corner, filled with water and a ladle. I eyed the water dubiously, then shook my head. “Maybe later,” I muttered, leaving the demon’s blood on my face as a badge of courage, or perhaps just insanity. I really needed a stiff drink. Or five.

Cyrus motioned for me to sit at a wooden table near the hearth. “Have a seat,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle considering he’d just flambéed a demon corpse in the backyard. He moved to a small kitchen area and put a kettle on the stove. I stared at him in silence as we waited for the water to boil. Soon after, he poured a cup of tea and handed it to me, his eyes never leaving my face. I took a sip, the warmth of the tea grounding me somewhat.

“What’s your name?” he asked, sitting across from me.

“Kate.” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady as I eyed the steaming cup of tea he placed in front of me. I sniffed the tea and slowly gazed around the room, trying to take it all in. “Is this your evil lair? Cozy.”

Cyrus chuckled, the sound of his low voice vibrating through my body and resonating with the lingering fear in my bones. “It’s more of a safe house,” he corrected, shifting on the chair opposite me. “And the tea is chamomile. Calming, you know.”

“Right,” I said, taking a sip. “Because chamomile is exactly what I need after seeing a monster melt into a puddle of goo.”

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You’ve got a way with words, Kate.”

“It’s a gift,” I retorted, taking another sip of tea. “So, what’s the deal? Am I on some hidden camera prank show? Because if so, you guys really went all out.”

Cyrus leaned forward, his expression serious. “I assure you, this is no prank. You’re in very real danger.”

“Danger?” I scoffed, trying to mask my fear with bravado. “From what? Badgers with rabies? Overzealous park rangers?”

“Demons,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I stared at him, my mind reeling. “Demons? Like, with horns and pitchforks and a penchant for collecting souls?”

He nodded, his gaze unwavering. “Not quite the cartoon version, but close enough. And they’re after you.”

“Me?” I squeaked, my voice betraying my terror. “Why me? I’m just a lowly archaeologist. I haven’t even paid my student loans yet.”

Cyrus’s lips twitched into a wry smile. “It’s not your student loans they’re after, Kate. It’s your powers.”

“Powers?” I scoffed, though my voice wavered. “What powers? I can barely parallel park.”

“The power to heal,” he said, his voice low and intense. “The power to… well, I’m not entirely sure yet. But it’s something they want, and they won’t stop until they get it.”

I shook my head, the absurdity of the situation threatening to overwhelm me. “This is insane. I’m a scientist, not a superhero. I deal with facts, not fairy tales.”

Cyrus leaned forward, his eyes boring into mine. “This is no fairy tale, Kate. And the sooner you accept that, the sooner we can start figuring out how to protect you.”

I took a deep breath, the chamomile doing little to soothe my racing heart. “Okay,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “Let’s say I believe you. What do we do now?”

Cyrus stared at me for a long time, clearly contemplating before responding. “First, tell me what you know,” he said, his tone gentle but probing.

I frowned, trying to gather my thoughts. “There’s not much to tell. I’m an archaeologist working on the site near the camp you saw earlier. I was just going on a walk when this… thing… attacked me.”

Cyrus leaned forward slightly. “Has anything odd happened recently, before this incident? Anything that seemed out of the norm or even magical?”

I hesitated, my mind flashing back to the strange events of the past few days. “We discovered and have been studying a tablet with unknown writing and symbols,” I explained, trying to keep my voice steady despite the nervous tremor that threatened to break through. “It was like nothing we’d ever seen before. Kind of like those weird alien hieroglyphics in that Indiana Jones movie, except less… face-melty.”

He nodded, urging me to continue. “And after that? Did anything unusual happen?”

I took a deep breath. “Yesterday, one of my colleagues cut his hand pretty badly. I… I put my hands over the wound, and it just healed. It was like something out of a cheesy infomercial, except instead of a miracle kitchen gadget, it was my hands.”

Cyrus nodded with a serious expression, as if he had already known. “Kate, that means you’ve awakened powers somehow. Your encounter with that tablet might have triggered it. Healing is one of the abilities tied to saintly powers. This is why the demons are after you.”

I looked into his eyes, searching for any sign that he might be joking, but his expression was earnest. “So, you’re saying I have magical powers because of an ancient tablet? That sounds… insane.” I paused, a nervous laugh escaping my lips. “I mean, more insane than the fact that demons are real, which is already pretty high on the insanity scale.”

“I understand, Kate,” he said softly. “This is a lot to take in, but it’s real. Your powers are a beacon to these demons. They can sense you, and they won’t stop until they capture you. But with training, you can learn to control and hide your abilities.”

I shook my head, still in disbelief. “This doesn’t make any sense. How can I have powers? I’ve lived my whole life as a normal person. How am I supposed to just accept this? I mean, I haven’t even finished binge-watching ‘The Witcher’ yet. I’m not prepared for this level of fantasy in my life.”

Cyrus leaned forward, his expression earnest. “I know it’s a lot to take in, Kate. But you’ve already seen what you can do. The healing—it wasn’t a coincidence. Your powers are real, and the sooner you accept that, the better we can protect you and those around you.”

I took a deep breath, trying to process everything he was saying. “So, what do we do now?”

“First, you need to learn to control your powers,” Cyrus said gently. “And we need to figure out how to protect you from them. Your powers make you a target.”

I nodded slowly, the reality of the situation starting to sink in. “This is a lot to handle. But if it means keeping my friends safe, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Cyrus gave me a reassuring look. “We’ll take it one step at a time, Kate. You’re not alone in this. We’ll figure it out together.” As I sat there, the weight of Cyrus’s words sinking in, I realized that my life was about to change in ways I could never have imagined. I was no longer just an archaeologist. I was part of something much larger, something ancient and powerful. And I was terrified.